Paxton High School - Reflector Yearbook (Paxton, IL)

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14 The Paxton High School Ref lector haps the meaning of your poem may he obscure or odd but that is of no moment providing the rhyme and meter are perfect. When tlie poem is complete, bow your head in a devout prayer of thanksgiving, utter a sigh of relief from the toes up, re-arrange your disordered tresses and remove those locks from beneath the nails whicn have ben torn from their native element during your period of mental stress. Then reassure your frightened parents, other relatives, neighbors, and the crowd of onlookers who have gathered to view your struggles, that it is not necessary to call the doctor, the undertaker or the bra n specialist, but that you have only written a Poem! (Note: Those of our would-be poets who are afflicted with baldness should not be discouraged, but hold their brains in their hands, anyway: indeed, this sort of massage may eventually cause the hair to again grow, i THE SENIOR SPECTRE By Agnes Johnson, ’17. (A Parody on Ixmgfellow’s Skeleton in Armor.) Speak, Speak, thou fearful guest Who. to thy hollow breast Still hath a note-book prest And comes’t to daunt me. Dressed not in sombre hue But in hright gold and blue Anc’ent class-sweater, too— Why dost thou haunt me? Then from those cavernous eyes Pale flashes seemed to rise As when the Northern skies Gleam in December And like the waters flow Tender December’s snow Came a dull voice of woe From the heart’s chamber: — ‘‘I was a Senior bold My deeds, though manifold Ne’er in Reflector was told— Never was taught thee! Take heed that in thy verse Thou dost this tale rehearse Else dread a school boy’s curse For this I sought thee. Here, with the wicked band When from class I was canned, I with my childish hand Flung notes, so bravely. And with my new fountain pen Traced I those pictures then. Far beyond human ken S'nned I thus gravely. And when I older grew Joined 1 the smoker’s crew Many the smoke-rings T blew With the marauders. Wild was the life we led. There was many an aching head Many a nose that bled—by our stern orders. Four years we onward bore And when that time was o’er We’d graduate, we were sure ’Yond teachers’ call. But our kind teachers wise Had in store a surprise We’d scarce believe our eyes— They flunked us all! Thus it went many years Habit soon dried our tears. I soon forgot the jeers, ’Twas no use to bother! (Here let a lesson be taught, Do not set books at naught

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The Paxton High School Pel lector 13 dbifl ifl thr uptjnimirf Numbrr oplmmnrp 0ppartmrut— abp ittust Jlmpartant MAKING A POEM. (By Agnes Johnson.) There are different ways of making poetry, because there are different kinds of poetry. There is poetry written for pleasure, and poetry written at the expense of one’s friends to annoy them; hut worse than these, worse, in fact, than anything in heaven or earth, or in the naughty place under the earth, is writing poetry for English class. That is indeed an ordeal. To write poetry successfully, one should provide himself with a large table and a comfortable chair, several tablets, not less than half a dozen, and a couple of pencils. These are better than a pen and they should be made of strong wood, preferably oak, and should not b° indelible. These condi tions are readily understood when I state that the writer gets much comfort and inspiration from having his pencil while he awaits the com'ng of the Muse. The writer should seat himself on the chair, sit on one foot and twine the other around the leg of the chair; He should place his elbow upon the table, bury his hands in his hair, and chew said pencil, staring moodily at the light, the window, or any other object in full view, while considering a title for his masterpiece. Frowning aids the mind in tbs task, and if this is not successful, the muttering of certain expressive words in an invaluable aid I can not mention any of thes words, as profanity is not allowed in theme writing, but everyone has his favor te expressions and any of these incantatiouss will do, providing they are sufficiently sulphurous. When the title has Leen chosen, the next thing is to write the poem proper; first, write the first sentence; then close your eyes tightly, get a fresh grip on your hair, and name all the words rhyming with the last one of your sentence, alphabetically: to illustrate: the last word of your sentence is ‘allow , begin, “bow, cow, endow, fow, how, etc.’’ until you find an appropriate one. Continue in this manner until your poem is complete. Per-

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15 I he Paxton Iliyli School Reflector Or else you too will be caught You’ll graduate never!) Weary my body grew My brain was worn out too. I saw I’d ne'er get through I’d known it before. Down on my pen-point I fell Giving one last weak class yell That was my funeral knell— My life was o’er! Thus seamed with many scars Bursting it's prison bars Up to it’s native stars My soul ascended. Deep drinks the student's soul— Skoal; to old Paxton High! Skoal! Thus the tale ended. Emersons—“The Mountain and the Squirrel.” (A Parody.) Lanky Jeff and saw’d-off Mutt Had a quarrel And the former called tha latter “Little Runt.” Mut replied; You are doubtless very big, But all sorts of goods and leather Must be taken in together To make a man, And a can; And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. “If I am not so long as you. You are not so short as I, And not half so spry; I'll not deny you make A very funny monkey face. Talents differ; all is well and wisely If I cannot carry coke, Jsenther can you crack a joke.” —Carl Cratz. Some DONT'S in the School Room. 1. Don’t ever whisper to your neighbor 2. Don't ever eat candy or chew gum. 3. 1 on’t write very many notes. 4. Don’t sas your teacher. 5. Eon’t ever cheat while reciting. G. Don't ever “cut up’’ in class. 7. Don’t ever be sent to the office. 8. D on't copy another student’s work. 9. Don’t ever be sent from class. . 10. Don't try to bluff in a recitation. 11. Don’t study too hard. 12. Don’t try to look innocent when guilty. 13. Don't ever shirk your duties. 14. Don’t ever tell a lie when ques tioned. 15. Don’t ever try to be big-headed, because it will be soon taken out of you. Gee, I wish— That I could control my violen! blushes.—Carl Cratz. That Miss F. would grow weary of correcting theme papers.—Eng. II. That Mr. Elmer wtuld pick on someone of his own size.—Agnes J. That Alma G. would get a Latin translation wrong, just once—Latin II. That the girls would quit flirting with me.—Jake Olson. That the girls would quit congregating in the cloak room.—Miss Bisbee. That Everett Smith would study once in awhile.—Faculty. That Mr. Elmer would modulate his stentorian voice when issuing invitations for front seats. T. B. M.: “Oh, gee, I would hate to lie an elevator boy. Just look at the ups and downs they have in life.”